This week has been one of those weeks that seem to drag on and on, you know the ones, the ones that never fucking end?
After dealing with morons at the correctional facility to get information passed on to an inmate (for lack of better terminology) I discovered my self-having to argue my reasoning to some magistrate, who would decide if the information should be passed through to the biological mother of a life that ended on Sunday when she took matters into her own hands and simply put a stop to the hurt she could no longer face.
So me myself and my big mouth headed into the magistrate, with a bee in my bonnet, I was and am disgusted that a decision to tell a mother of her child’s passing is to be laid out in front of a judge, who will decide if it is the best interest of that inmate number one, and number two, how and who will continue the care for the inmate through the grieving process.
My fucking god, ok so number one piss off of the week was the entire suicide thing that I realised regardless of how much we try to prevent this tragic suffering of another, empathise and help someone to deal with emotions and memories that sometimes are too difficult for them to handle, I was forced to face the fact that I cannot save everybody all of the time.
Again another thing that pissed me off, the fact I had to admit that I am merely human and have god damn emotions.
Yes my emotions tend to flick from 0 to bitch in less than .2 of a second flat, and often this happens due to the stupidity of those around me at the time.
It’s not as though they have no warning signs, I mean shit if I am sitting down, my legs are normally crossed, and my foot begins to move up and down, which like a cat’s tail does get increasingly faster and increasingly obvious not to mention that due to the colour of my eyes, which are normally green, they will also be a dead give-away as they turn to pure emerald-green or black depending on just how fucking angry I am at that given point in time.
I dread that emotion of feeling lost, and crying the helpless one that no matter how or who we are or how long we may conceal and fight this dreaded emotion it does eventually surface.
None the less I fight that one with all that I have in me to avoid feeling not in control.
Therefore its flick into the on position with the bitch switch, as I let fly.
So a week of arguing with the so-called system of justice dealing with fuck knows what else at work, add to that having to be the one who is expected to have all the answers it is suffice to say that I am not in the best of moods right now.
To top it all off this week I got to experience once again as I do yearly the trigger to that fucked up post-traumatic stress disorder coming back to haunt me as the 8th anniversary passed since I said good night to a women who influenced my life more than words will ever say.
People seem to think that being me is fucking easy well let me say to anyone else out there in this sad sadistic world who wants to be me tries to be me or even clones me from time to time to pretend to have some delusion of fucking grandeur that they seem to think comes with being me, sucked in, being Angel is nothing like you imagined is it?
The illusion that people seem to have in their mind’s eye about what it is like to live my life, to be me, to do whatever it is that I do that they seem to want so desperately to do, or to be, is nothing like the picture their mind’s eye has painted, it must be a real kick in the balls to realise this reality.
As I semi half-smile to myself with this thought, and begin to think about getting on with the rest of a long-awaited fucking Friday. I feel slightly better for having vented my feelings out there for the entire narsastic world-wide web, as I take one of those deep breaths and collect my thoughts, moving back to the tide of life’s current.